English Breakfast
by BipolarMolar
Summary: Sequel to Continental Breakfast. Brendan returns Walker's favour over an English Breakfast. Slash. Read and review if you enjoy this fic.


**Title: English Breakfast**

**Author: BipolarMolar**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**This is a sequel to Continental breakfast, the last in a two-fic series I've dubbed "Breakfast With Bralker." so it's advisable that you read that first. If you don't want to read that first(or indeed at all), that's ok because I can sum it up for you- Brendan made Walker a continental breakfast, ate some jam off his chest, then Walker went down on him. A reviewer requested a sequel so here we are!**

**Get ready for more foodplay- last time we had a continental breakfast, so here's an English one!**

After the success of making Walker a continental breakfast (and the blow job that had followed it), Brendan would have been happy to cook daily for Walker if it guaranteed he'd be… rewarded in that way.

He'd lain there, exhausted; his arousal washed from his body, cock limp and licked clean until sleep had taken him. When he'd woken, Brendan had realised, in retrospect that perhaps it wasn't very _accommodating _to receive a blow job off Walker, withoutinsisting that he reciprocate. Brendan decided to broach the subject.

"So, Walker," Brendan drawled, sauntering into the kitchen early the next morning. "What did you think of my special breakfast?" He picked up an apple from a nearby fruit bowl, wiping it on his trousers.

Walker didn't turn around from his place at the sink, back towards Brendan and the tap running. "It was nice. Thanks again." He answered back, the words faint under the stream of water.

"What are you doing?" Brendan asked, throwing the apple straight up in the air. He caught it deftly in his right hand and then repeated the motion.

The tap spat as it was abruptly turned off; Walker turned around and Brendan smirked, taking in the sight of Walker, his shirt damp and clinging to his chest, suds glistening on his skin. "Doing the dishes. For _you_." Walker snapped, blowing a stray strand of hair off his face. Brendan had never thought a thirty-something man could look cute but he did. Damp and bedraggled and _oh so_ domesticated…the sight was endearing.

"Why?"

Walker sighed. "Can't a man do something nice without being subjected to an interrogation?"

At that moment, Brendan threw the apple at Walker. The man caught it in an impressive curveball move, effortlessly.

"Go upstairs, Brendan." Walker snapped.

"When you're done playing mammy, you can take off those marigolds and come see me. I wanna talk to you." Brendan said over his shoulder, before striding out of the room.

Brendan got increasingly moodier as he waited for Walker. The clatter of dishes, and an odd snatch of the radio (apparently, Walker favoured Sinatra) could be heard, as Brendan waited for the man. Finally, Brendan had waited long enough so he returned to the kitchen to wait there.

"I did it myyyy wayyy…" Simon sang along, drowning out the tinny radio on the worktop, as he prodded vigorously at the contents of a frying pan with a spoon.

"If that's your way, you can keep it." Brendan muttered, taking a seat at the table. He couldn't help the grin climbing along his lips; it was good to see Walker a little more relaxed.

"Brendan…oh, bloody- don't do that again." Walker gasped, the flames under the pan flaring as he whipped round. "Brady, you'll be the death of me."

Brendan leant forward, pointedly staring at Walker's crotch. "I hope not," he said slowly. "Because I'll have a lot less range on what to do to-" he smirked. "If you're dead."

"Depends," Walker breathed, clutching his spoon defensively as his trousers tented in a tell-tale sign. "Does necrophilia float your boat?"

Brendan smiled, standing up and taking deliberate steps towards the man. "'fraid not, Simon. Save that for Halloween. I like my men alive…hot, hard in places-" He glanced down again at Walker's groin hungrily, making Simon exhale noisily. "And soft in others," He flicked a few strands of Walker's hair, then tugged on them childishly, prompting Walker to lean down for a kiss.

"My Walker…" He murmured, smacking a sloppy kiss onto Walker's smiling lips. "So eager to please me…your food's gonna burn-"

"Shit, you're right!" Walker tore his mouth from Brendan's, hurrying and fussing over the food.

A plate was carefully placed down on the table, a knife and fork pushed into Brendan's pliant hands. Brendan raised an eyebrow at the bacon, sausages, fried eggs, tomato and black pudding. The positioning of the food rather made it look like-

"A smiley face? Huh. Funny."

"Yeah," Walker grinned, seating himself opposite his friend. "Fried eggs for eyes, a tomato slice for a nose-"

"Yeah, I can see that-"

"And a _lovely_ smiley mouth. To make you smile. Sorry, Bren, I just thought it's been a while since I made a smiley breakfast- my mum used to do it for me and my brother." Brenda n saw Walker's smile dip, his eyes dim as he said this and so Brendan squashed down the concern inside him, instead choosing to sample the meal.

"This is good," Brendan mumbled past a mouthful of bacon. "You're a good cook."

"Ta," Walker murmured distractedly, wrapping his hands around a steaming mug of tea. His gaze was somewhere off Brendan's shoulder and he seemed rather quiet. Too quiet. Brendan didn't like it when Walker went quiet; it was somewhat like the eye of a storm. But that was the problem- Walker just seemed too calm, always. Getting a reaction from him, anger. Amusement, arousal, anything was like getting blood from a stone. Brendan would find himself becoming more and more worked up, shouting at Simon Walker slamming, and shoving him up against a wall, screaming in his face. He didn't want to do that now.

Twirling his fork around his fingers, he considered his next move. The sausage (a lovely smiley mouth, as Walker said) was the obvious move. So, spearing it on his fork, he dipped it in the ketchup and then brought it to his mouth. And sucked it clean. Walker's eyes actually widened and Brendan didn't even think _that_ was possible; he made sure to keep his expression unfixed and thoughtful as he let the food slip from his lips. He couldn't make Walker think he was actually attempting to seduce him. The taste of sausage invaded his tongue as he once again pushed it between his lips, until the sauce-stained tines of the fork were pushing at his tongue. He made sure to take as much as the banger into his mouth as he could, and bit down hard. Walker didn't visibly flinch, although Brendan heard the quiet tap of his foot suddenly hitting the ground in shock. Brendan smiled to himself and swallowed the massive mouthful down, feeling a mild twinge of unpleasantness as the large lump of food was forced down, his Adam's apple bobbing conspicuously in his throat. Walker made an odd, whiny noise.

"Don't play with your food, Brendan."

Can I play with you instead? Brendan thought, smiling to himself. The rest of the meal passed in relative peace, although it was a bit disconcerting to eat hungrily with Walker watching him just as hungrily. But eventually, the plate was empty and Brendan was finished.

"Done," he said shortly, letting his cutlery clatter onto the plate that made both men jump.

Brendan slowly smiled, giving Walker a level look. "So nice of you to cook for me, Walker." He murmured, watching Walker scowl suspiciously at him. "My English friend, English breakfast…it's nice of you, taking…care of me."

"What's your point?" Walker asked with a frown.

Brendan pushed back his chair, so that, his knees could hit the floor. He crawled under the table so that he was crouching with the table above him, Walker's knees and long, denim-clad legs in his field of vision.

"My point _is_, Walker," Brendan snapped, nuzzling Walker's leg lazily, letting the denim scrape his cheek. "It's my turn- to take care of you."

He could see Walker's leg tensing nervously, could feel the muscles bunching up under his hand as he caressed his thigh. Brendan smirked, his tongue darting out past his lips to lick the denim. His tongue dragged along the rough material in a satisfying way, so he did it again, licking at Walker's covered crotch until the denim grew dark and damp with saliva, and his tongue ached from the scratchy material. Walker's breathing sounded heavier but apart from that (and the bulge in his trousers) he didn't give much of a reaction. So it was time to up the game.

Brendan let his teeth rake over the denim, harder than he normally would, but the fabric protected Walker's groin from the sharp, playful teeth. It was just enough of a pressure to make Walker moan, which made Brendan smirk, even as Walker was unfastening his flies with a frustrated hand, and forcing Brendan's mouth onto his cock. The taste of sweat and pre-come invaded Brenda's taste buds, involuntary, he felt his mouth water. He hated it sometimes, the desire he felt for men., it was like he didn't have a choice, everything about it, the sight, smell, feel, sound and taste of men was just so good, so right. He tried not to concentrate on these thoughts as he curled his tongue around the side of Walker's dick, making the man whimper and spread his legs as far as the denim around his knees would allow. Brendan drew back to lick his lips, ignoring Walker's cry of frustration in favour of kissing the member teasingly, flicking his tongue to lick. Brendan knew from experience that the teasing could verge on painful for the victim, so he opted to just take the head in his mouth, sucking hard. Walker gave a wail and Brendan spat his cock out, tonguing his balls for a few seconds the changing to suck him again. Walker's fingers tangled in Brendan's hair, anchoring him in place. Brendan's hands found their way to Walker's limbs- one hand cupping his knee and the other firmly on his thigh. His jaw was beginning to ache from having something so big pushing his lips apart, forcing itself down his throat, and his neck tensed with the bobbing motion of swallowing Walker's cock down, letting it fall from his lips then back again. Walker's cries were getting desperate and louder, trying in vain to raise his hips closer to Brendan's mouth. Brendan swallowed down some pre-come, recognising that Walker's orgasm was close. He braced himself for the sudden tensing of Walker's thighs under his hands, feeling hot come spurt into his mouth, swallowing it down with a grimace. As soon as he'd swallowed the last drop, Brendan pulled back, gasping breaths and stretching his aching neck.

"Thanks for that," He wheezed, looking up at Walker. "But I couldn't eat another bite."


End file.
